Sixty Words
by Lover of Angelus
Summary: quip. keen. theft. travail. glance. crippled. graduate. assault. sway. apocalypse. idiocy. decorum. savage. besiege. To name a few. Each chapter that expands on a word will have its own warnings. *All future updates will be on my Tumblr. I am no longer posting on this site.*
1. Intro

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest, language, character deaths

I.

**_Ides _**

You hear your high school teacher's voice in your head as he talks about Brutus' betrayal to the great Caesar, and you wonder if you father still had his tongue if he'd say the same thing.

II.

**_quip _**

You say nothing as the teacher's eyes run over your form, however, you could never trust Dean to do the same as he throws his arm around your neck and snarls a dangerous threat that you choose not to hear.

III.

**_keen _**

He always knows what's going on around him. Some would call it a sixth sense, he calls it the product of being chased by evil things since he was four and he ran out of his house with his baby brother in his arms and his mother burning in the nursery.

IV.

**_fluid _**

He rises to his feet, and you can't help but stare at the long and lithe form as it saunters toward you.

V.

**_theft _**

The first time Dean picked a pocket he was walking around the park while Sammy was at home with a growling stomach, their father gone a few extra days. He had felt no guilt even as the man told his own son that he didn't have his wallet with him, the man wearing a confused look that quickly turned to realization and then to anger.

VI.

**_travail _**

You hate the screams, the screams that you can't stop, because this is Sam's burden and the only thing you can do now is stand guard for those few minutes that Sam's on the floor and is so completely and utterly defenseless.

VII.

**_exhibitionism _**

You laugh quietly to yourself because you've always known that you brother was a show-off. But then the alarm bells going off in the back of your head tell you that the bikers don't find this particular trait as endearing as you do.

VIII.

**_indeterminate _**

He's been watching you ever since you can remember and probably even before then. There had been times when this look comes into his eyes and it wasn't until you were sixteen and he first kissed you that you recognized it as Lust.

IX.

**_model _**

Sometimes, when Dad was gone, Dean would buy a toy car - the kind that you had to put together and paint - and the two of you would sit down at either the table of your temporary house or the floor of the current motel room and work on it for the rest of the night.

X.

**_peon _**

"Fuck off," he snarls at the older man who was attempting to draw your attention. Dean's never had any patience for your many would-be suitors.

XI.

**_casaba _**

You moan into the kiss, tilting your head to the side to try to deepen it, fingers threading through your brother's too short hair and a part of you wonders why Dean always tastes like fruit.

XII.

**_ring _**

He's laughing as he picks a black velvet box up from the bottom of his duffel; it's not a happy laugh, it's not a bitter laugh, it's a laugh of emptiness. He squeezes it in his hand, trying to erase the memories and your dead soul rips itself apart all over again.

XIII.

**_touch _**

The first time you had dared to touch him, you had been rejected with such ferocity that you couldn't have helped but wonder if it was forced. Your suspicions confirmed when Sam initiates a kiss later that week.

XIV.

**_Lockport_****_, NY_**

You waltzed into the waiting room where your father and Dean sat, you laughed quietly at their worried looks. "Told you it was nothing to worry about," you say, showing them your cast. Your father doesn't even smile.

XV.

**_concentrate _**

The pencil continues to float and you know that Dean would probably have a heart attack if he knew you could do this but before you can reach for the phone, Jessica walks in and the pencil clatters to the floor.

XVI.

**_gruff _**

Fleeting and torturous touches, nipping teeth that cause no pain, this is all you feel but then Dean enters you and sets a grueling pace, and you're reminded how painful it is to be one person. You cum with his name on your lips and sweat-soaked sheets fisted in your hands.

XVII.

**_arraign _**

You're shouting again. You don't mean to, but it happens because you want to let Sam know just how much his leaving killed your humanity.

XVIII.

**_heart _**

The blade drives home and your brother is avenged.

XIX.

**_alabaster _**

When you spend pretty much all of your life hunting creatures of the night, it's no wonder that you're a little paler then most. But when you see Sam after two years on his own, you notice right away that his skin's tanned and as you run your fingers over it's smoothness, you imagine that you can feel the heat from the sun and you know that this is as close to that bright ball in the sky as you'll ever get.

XX.

**_bibulous _**

He's drinking again and Dean knows that he has to get Sam away. So he takes him to the park and they race, running side-by-side down the sidewalks, Dean shortening his stride so Sam could keep up. The people around them watch as the young men run and, when they blink, suddenly disappear.

XXI.

**_brume _**

As he stalks through the club, he keeps trying to tell himself to turn around, to jump back into his Impala and just get out of here. But then Sam's face turns and he looks straight at him and before he realizes what he's doing, Dean strides over to Sam and whispers words into his baby brother's ear that he knows Sam loves.

XXII.

**_combat _**

His brother is on the ground, moaning as the pain consumes him, and Dean stands tall, body rigid as he watches the other Hunters surround them, Dean's fingers itching toward the Colt tucked in the back of his jeans.

XXIII.

**_disease _**

No matter what he did, he couldn't satisfy his craving for Sam's flesh, his brother an addiction he knows he never should've started.

XXIV.

**_infer _**

Just the tone of his voice and the fact that he's here at all, let you know that something is terribly wrong.

XXV.

**_infinite _**

Dean was always there, Dean was forever, no "ifs", "ands", or "buts" about it. Dean was just _Dean_. And no person, thing, or otherwise could hope to change that.

XXVI.

**_perplex _**

You're watching him carefully, you know that something is about to happen and you're not quite sure what it is, but it's going to be big. Sam leaves for college the very next day.

XXVII.

**_sway _**

Their bodies grinded against the other, the club's lights flash. They were in perfect sync, every move in tune with the beat of the song and each other; his schoolmates never knew Sam could - or ever would - dance like he was now with the beautiful man whose name no one knew.

XXVIII.

**_glance _**

His eyes stare at you from underneath long lashes and you curse lightly under your breath at how unfair the world has become since Sam learned exactly what he does to you.

XXIX.

**_crippled _**

Your body may have been sore and your eyes tired from the day's long drive, but the second the other Hunter cursed the Winchester name with disgust in his voice every muscle in your body tightened as you drew your fist back.

XXX.

**_gourmet _**

You and your brother enter the upscale restaurant and you notice that you're under scrutiny as soon as you cross the threshold. But then Sam opens his mouth and suddenly he has the air of high-society around him and you know that he expects you to play your part, which you do without fail.

XXXI.

**_graduate _**

You park the Impala on the side of an empty back road. Then you and Sam are fucking in the backseat, Sam's new high school diploma lying innocently on the dashboard.

XXXII.

**_assault _**

As his body melts into yours, you feel every nerve coming to life under his needy fingertips.

XXXIII.

**_discard _**

You kill them all slowly even though you know that he wouldn't want you killing humans, however, these particular ones stole your Sammy, your light in the world of darkness that threatens to consume you. And as you drive to your motel, the image of their bodies sinking to the bottom of the river flashes in front of you over and over again, but you feel no guilt, don't even bother to try to care because you know that you won't be alive for much longer.

XXXIV.

**_angel _**

She watches as they enter, the Winchester brothers sauntering toward the bar, their eyes sweeping the room and taking notes; their intoxicating beauty outweighed only by the predatory glint in their eyes.

XXXV.

**_tango _**

After that night at the dance club, Jessica had had serious doubts about Sam's sexual preferences and it wasn't until a month later when Sam asked her out, did she question her own judgment. But even as their relationship progresses, she worries about the man with blonde hair and hazel eyes, the way his body had grinded into Sam spoke of a bond with years behind it and now she can't help but wonder just who he was.

XXXVI.

**_tame _**

Ellen wants to warn her daughter, teach Jo the lesson she had had to learn the hard way: _Winchesters are too wild to be handled by anyone except another Winchester. _

XXXVII.

**_injured _**

The knife slices Sam's flesh and the scent of blood fills the air and the rage in your chest turns to ice and you know that Gordon Walker will suffer oh so terribly.

XXXVIII.

**_sense _**

After the plane lands and you've picked the motel, you push Dean onto the bed and calm his nerves.

XXXIX.

**_subdue _**

The rage builds, misting over his eyes in a haze of crimson as his fists continue to land punch after punch on the middle-aged man who had dared to let his hands wander. And just when by-standers think that the offender will die, a young man steps from the crowd and whispers, "Dean, stop it."

XL.

**_Tallahassee_****_, FL_**

"So much f'd up crap happens in Florida," and that sentence alone does nothing but bring a smile to your face because you remember what first happened there.

XLI.

**_statistic_**

Dean wasn't _scared_ of much, you knew that, but you also knew the one thing that _terrified_ him: when he dies, he'd be chalked up as just another missing person.

XLII.

**_harness_**

Dean rolls his eyes the first time he sees you staring at a pencil as if your life depended on it; you say nothing and continue to stare. Dean doesn't laugh again when you use telekinesis to stop a wall from falling on him.

XLIII.

**_decorum_**

It was your ritual for every hunt: clean the weapons, load the weapons, fuck in the shower, check out of the motel, then you were off; Sam sitting beside you with Metallica blaring.

XLIV.

**_gannet_**

Two dying brothers lay on the beach, watching the birds flying over their heads; Dean describing the beauty of it all since Sam's eyes was ruined in the fight.

XLV.

**_inexorable _**

You watch them from afar and you hate how nothing you've done has seperated them. You should have known better, really, a love with nearly thirty years behind it wouldn't shatter over a single night.

XLVI.

**_torus _**

They look up at the towering building, Sam's mouth dropping open while Dean just stood there, overwhelmed.

XLVII.

**_apocalypse _**

When the Winchesters went to L.A. and found the city in total darkness, Dean laughed loudly and Sam only smiled and continued to polish his .45.

XLVIII.

**_oblivious _**

You had always thought that Sam would be able to see you if you were a ghost, now you're just disappointed and you hope that you remember to slap him if/when you ever get your body back.

XLIX.

**_transmogrify _**

You watch the man you had once known as Dean moves toward you, but you can tell by the look in his eyes that he's not your brother. He doesn't ask permission, just takes you, fangs buried so deep in your neck you wonder if they'll ever come out again.

L.

**_idiocy_**

The young Hunter shouts and screams and beg for mercy. And the voice of Gordon Walker reverberates through his skull: _Never, ever go after only one. Because, even if you do win, there's still the other one that you have to deal with and he'll be a_ million _times worse._

LI.

**_inviolable _**

No woman dares to touch, no man dares to glance; the youngest of the Winchesters is held high by the brother who never leaves and the father who is always gone.

LII.

**_trinket _**

When Dean was twenty-one, he found a 1983 heads-up penny on his way to get Sammy from school; he picked it up and put it in his pocket. He's considered it a good-luck charm since it was later that night that he and Sam first had sex.

LIII.

**_aloof_**

As the new kid walked into the new classroom, all the new faces looked up and saw nothing in the eyes of hazel.

LIV.

**_valuables _**

Feathery kisses accompanied with even lighter touches and when Dean opens his eyes, he looks down at the black string around his wrist, his eyebrows jetting upwards in response. "So you don't forget me," Sam whispers. Dean furrows his brows before shooting his hand out and grabbing Sam by the hair and roughly shoving his tongue down his baby brother's throat.

LV.

**_intimation_**

Hazel eyes follow your movements, they're accompanied by emerald a few seconds later. And you've never felt so terrified in your whole life as you stare down the double-barrel. The emerald eyes, full of rage and agony and betrayal; the hazel eyes filled with nothing.

LVI.

**_omnipotent_**

They laugh out loud, watching as the Hunters try to figure why the bullets were _floating_. "You thought you could take _us_?" demands the eldest Winchester, his hazel eyes on fire as he and his brother close in, all fangs and devious glee.

LVII.

**_savage _**

You let loose an agonized groan as your own blade cuts deep into your skin. "How you holding up, Gordie?" taunts the silky voice that belong to hazel eyes. You spit blood in Dean's face. "We're gonna have to fix that attitude of yours," Dean sighs, shakes his head. Then he does something - you're not sure what, but it hurts like a bitch and the next thing you know you're screaming.

LVIII.

**_inchoate _**

There were no beginnings for the Winchester boys when it came to Hunting; every lesson, Hunt, experience blended together. And neither Sam nor Dean remember their first monster.

LIX.

**_besiege _**

He knows that he should be more upset about Jess's death, but right now he's looking his brother's hazel eyes and the outside world - along with its problems and vices - have disappeared.

LX.

**_conamore_**

Gentle fingers here and there and it's something that you know you could never get enough and probably won't since Sam's always been such a fuckin' tease.


	2. omnipotent

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue.

**Warnings**: Wincest if you squint.

**Notes**: These won't be coming out in any specific order, just whenever I can write them down. The upcoming chapters will just be about one word, or group of words, and will only be one-shots or drabbles.

-z-

**Chapter Two**: omnipotent

-z-

Fire.

It took away his mother and girlfriend.

-z-

Fire.

It burns within his body and consumes his soul.

-z-

Fire.

It rages in the Demon's eyes and haunts nightmares that he and his brother will soon be chasing down.

-z-

Fire.

It flickers unsteadily in the hearth, warming bodies that will remain cold and dead for the rest of eternity, yet will still move and still kill and never, ever succumb to the sands of time.

-z-

Fire.

It courses through his veins, fueling his muscles as he and his brother run. He hears the barking of dogs. He hears the shouting of the older Hunters as he turns back to watch his brother for the signal. And when it's given, they skid to a halt and leap upwards into the tree tops of the forest where they've lead the Hunters.

"Welcome to the game, boys," Sam shouts, the Hunters begin to fire. Suddenly, everything is quiet, the Hunter's eyes widen in fear.

"You thought you take could _us_?" Dean demands, roaring laughter as the humans below stare at the floating bullets. "Think again, bitches," he snarls as he and his brother jump down and close in, all fanged smiles and devious glee.

-

The dogs are no longer barking.

The older Hunters are no longer shouting orders.

And the Winchester brothers live another day.

-z-


	3. tango

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: language

-z-

**Chapter Three**: tango

-z-

Sam Winchester collapsed in the bathroom.

Sam Winchester began to puke his guts out.

"Sam," Jessica's voice was trembling. "Does it have something to do with that man?" she questioned. She and Robby had brought Sam home as soon as the mystery man had left, he hadn't spoken a word and his face had begun to pale.

"Don't worry about it," Sam bit out, wiping his mouth and shakily rising to his feet.

"How the hell can you say that?" Robby demanded. Ever since he had first met the younger man before him, he had felt over-protective of him; he didn't know why, Sam just brought that quality out in people.

"Please," Sam tried again, eyeing his friend's reflection as he leaned against the counter.

"No!" the older man was shouting. "Who was he?! It seemed like he knew you _real_ well, the way the two of you danced you'd think you'd fucked or someth-"

Robby never saw the fist coming. Never even saw Sam turn around. Just felt his head snap to the side and pain spread like wild fire from his jaw to the rest of his face.

"Don't talk like you know everything about me," Sam snarled, and before anyone could breathe again, stormed from the bathroom and to his room.

-

Sam Winchester woke up at noon.

Sam Winchester woke up to an empty apartment.

Robby had moved out. Sam punched the wall and let out a string of curses his father would have been proud of. The knocking on the door finally drew his attention.

"Hey, Jess," Sam sighed when he saw the young woman he had met only a few weeks ago.

"Hey," Jessica Moore hesitated before entering the apartment, she was afraid of him now. Whereas before she had thought Sam to be kind and gentle, last night he had become an entirely different person when that man had showed up and literally dragged him to the dance floor.

"Have you seen-"

"Trey's; whether or not its temporary is up to you," she shrugged as she sat down on the couch. "At least that's what Trey thinks." Sam let out a dry chuckle. Jess ignored it and continued. "Who was he?" she questioned, she was determined to find out who she was dealing with.

"No one you want know," Sam replied after a while. "Trust me, no one you should get involved with."

"Can you at least tell me his name?"

Sam squinted his eyes and assessed his friend's face. He sighed dejectedly before letting a small smile grace his lips, "Dean," a strangled chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. "He's just Dean."

-z-


	4. transmogrify

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest, Language

**Note**: Post _Bloodlust_.

-**z**-

**Chapter** **Four **: transmogrify

-**z**-

You watched as your father's truck roared out of sight and a part of you knew this was the last time you would ever see the man. After all, you blamed each other for what had happened to Dean. You blamed him for not firing the gun. He blamed you for being stupid enough to be caught as bait.

You had hit him - of course - punched him when you first went back to the barn and found no trace of your brother. He hit you back and this time Dean wasn't there to play mediator.

You laugh as you glance at the mirror, throw your head back and just giggle like a school girl because everything seems so fucking insane without Dean there, how tilted and just _wrong_ things look without your brother's shadow on the wall or reflection on the bed post.

You take a shower, turning the water on as hot as it will go; you want to wash it off, scrub away the feeling of Luthor's fingers on your neck and his tongue just behind your ear as he taunted Dean to do _something_.

"Want me to take him right here? Right here in front of you, Dean?" Luthor's voice tickles your senses and you can't suppress the tears any longer, you've been holding them in for so long now and you think that it's time to let it out. Let it all out.

-**z**-

"When are you going to do it?" Gordon Walker asks, sliding into the stool next to yours. Ellen looks up; she wants to know, too. It's been a year and still every time you find your way to the Roadhouse, the questions are always the same.

"Do what?" you ask.

Gordon shakes his head and lets out an exasperated sigh. "Let's not play this game, Sam, we have to-" he's interrupted when a very familiar face enters the Roadhouse.

Everyone goes quiet as Dean Winchester's eyes mist over the room; his smirk growing into a smile when he sees you. His eyes never leaving yours as he lazily ambles over.

"Sammy," he whispers, standing behind you and grabbing your chin, tilting your head back so that it rests against his chest.

"Hey, Dean," you say, ignoring the way Dean's icy fingers trace the column of your throat. "What's up, bro?"

Dean doesn't say anything, just steps away and slides into the stool next to yours. "Whiskey, straight," he smiles at Ellen.

Ellen doesn't say anything, she doesn't do anything, just stares.

"The hell you think you're doing here?" Gordon demands, slowly rising from his stool.

"So what've you been up to?" Dean's eyes flit back over to you, they ignore Gordon completely.

You let loose a dry chuckle, you want to answer him, you really do, but your throat has tightened and there's this pain your chest and your stomach is flipping and flopping all over and you just want to lean your head on Dean's shoulder and cry like a baby.

"Dean," you choke out, laughing again because it's fucking hilarious the way he's looking at you - hazel eyes glossy with lust and love and hatred and rage.

"Shh, Sammy," he whispers, putting his hand on the back of your neck and bringing you closer till your foreheads touch. "I'm back, Sammy; I'm not leaving ever again; Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," then he starts laughing and you swear that it's the sweetest sound you've ever heard.

You never felt the bullet go through your body.

You never heard Dean's animalistic roar of raw fury.

You never saw Dean tear Gordon Walker limb from limb as your unconscious body was rushed to the hospital.

You only remember the antiseptic smell of _hospital_ and how it was abruptly interrupted by _blood_ and _death_. You had opened your eyes then and saw Dean, bathed in blood and stinking of rage.

"It hurts," you say to your brother.

Dean leans down, lips brushing your forehead. "Let me fix it," he says, his mouth moving down to your throat, hovering there for a split second before you feel fangs buried so deep into your throat you wonder if they'll ever come out again.

-**z**-


	5. torus

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Character deaths, some Wincest

**Note**: Set somewhere in the future. AU.

-z-

**Chapter** **Five**: torus

-z-

There is a statue, a statue that welcomes all to the Hallow Estate.

Two men stand tall, eighteen feet of pure bronze imbued with elegant details that cannot be found in any other type of dedicational memorial. They are surrounded by rain water, a superstitious act the Hallows' part.

The shorter man is in mid-stride, standing in front of the taller one, a shot-gun in his right hand and .45 in his left, a devil-may-care smirk plastered on his face. The younger one watches the sidelines, head cocked as if listening for something, a curved knife in his left hand and journal in his right.

"Without them," the man smiles to his two colleagues, "My family and I would not be alive today. And my company would never have existed."

The super-stretch black limousine slows and the guests gawk and the woman begins to cry. She remembers, remembers the men who saved her, saved her boys.

"Who are they?" asks Norman Johnson, he's heard the rumors about the statue, but has never seen it in person and he's slightly offended because no rumor could have ever been able to describe the emotion those frozen faces bring up.

"Sam and Dean Winchester," smiles Emma Hallow, closing her eyes as she looks over at the monument. "They saved our family."

"What from?" Johnson questions further, he's a reporter, asking questions was in the job description.

"So many things," Charlie Hallow says, his face carefully hides any emotion. The Winchesters had saved him and his family on multiple occasions; always coming back to make sure that everything was still okay.

"Are they-?" Johnson leaves the question open.

"Yes," Emma smiles. "A car accident took one, and then the other-," she paused, "the other couldn't bear it."

Nikane Nimanchi, the Hallow's accountant, speaks for the first time, "Were they lovers?"

"Brothers," Charlie corrects him. "They were constantly quarreling over the most trivial things," he smiled fondly as if he talking about his own sons, "they cherished everything they categorized as important."

The limo speeds up and leaves the bronzed brothers behind, the two guests turn to continue to take in every detail they could from the backseat.

-

The Hallows say good-bye to their guests, and their two young boys - twins - loosen their ties and plop down on the couch, exhausted from the long night of politeness.

"Are we really named after those two men outside?" the elder twin asks after a while, he's asked the question before and all ready knows the answer.

His mother nods and says, "Yes. And if you had known them like your father and I had, you would not be so quick to complain." She taps her child on the nose and smiles sadly.

-- Eight years ago --

The Winchester brothers danced up the steps of the large office building, their suits fitting them in just the right places and turning heads in the process.

They had accepted a call from a family that they had helped countless times before. Dean pulled open the double glass doors effortlessly, "Brains before beauty," he smiled and bowed at the waist, ignoring the way his brother rolled his eyes.

They entered the building and strode along it's many hallways and riding it's many elevators, Dean pinching Sam's ass whenever he got the chance because he always loved Sam in a suit and never wasted a second reminding Sam of that fact.

"Are you boys lost again?" asked a familiar voice. The Winchesters jumped and turned around; they were now face-to-face with Charlie Hallows. At the bashful smiles, he continued, "How many times you been here, now?"

"Six or seven," Sam smiled, extending his hand. "It's good to see you again, Charles."

"You, too, Sam," Charlie took Sam's much larger hand within both of his own. He then turned to Dean, "The same goes to you, my good sir."

"You always know how to make me blush," Dean smiled and lowered his eyes to the floor.

"So," Sam put his hands into his pockets, "What can we do for you?"

"Yeah," Dean copied his brother, "Who can we do for you?"

-

"Fucking bastard ghosts and all their-their ghostiness!" Dean growled under his breath as he slammed the trunk of the Impala closed. "Why did we take this job?"

"Because Charles' wife is pregnant with twins and he promised _you_ that if we completed the job he would name them after us," Sam explained from his spot in the passenger seat.

Dean smiled slightly. "Oh, yeah."

The Winchester brothers drove to the five-star hotel where Charles and his wife were staying. They delivered the now poltergeist-free mansion's key. Charles smiled at his hand, at the key, then at his wife. He offered to put the brothers up for the night, the brothers declined, there were signs of a Wendigo in Oregon.

-

Dean never saw the other car.

-

Sam awoke in the hospital to the teary face of Mrs. Hallow. When she told him the news, he closed his eyes, and just gave up. The doctors were never able to revive him.

-z-

-- Present Day --

There is a statue, a statue that welcomes all to the Hallow Estate.

The shorter man is in mid-stride, standing in front of the taller one, a shot-gun in his right hand and .45 in his left, a devil-may-care smirk plastered on his face. The younger one watches the sidelines, head cocked as if listening for something, a curved knife in his left hand and journal in his right

The plaque on the pedestal, in an elegant hand, reads:

_The Winchester boys  
Sam and Dean_

No other words were needed.

None at all.


	6. quip

**Title** : Sixty Words

**Disclaimer** : Me no own, You no sue.

**Warning** : None

**Note** : pre-series

-z-

**Chapter Six **: quip

-z-

It was nothing more than another crowded day at the mall. You wouldn't be here if your father hadn't kicked you both out of the house to do a little "research."

"Want some ice cream, dude?" Dean jerks his thumb at the ice cream stand in front of the children playground.

You grin widely and don't have to say anything.

Dean pays and the two of you sit at the fountain, quietly licking. You and Dean do this a lot, just come here and people-watch. The funny thing is, no matter how many different places you've ever lived or how many mall fountains you sit at, the people are always the same. Their clothing and conversations never differ, maybe the accents and faces but that's about it.

"Sam? Sam Winchester?"

You look up at the sound of your name and there's a middle-aged man looking at you through a pair of dainty black-rimmed glasses. Your math teacher from your last town.

"Mr. Wilkinson?" you almost choke.

You don't like this man. You're pretty sure that Dean can sense this.

"How've you been, Sammy?" he was there now, in your personal space, a hand on your shoulder.

"Fine, sir," you try to scoot away, closer to Dean and to the protection only your brother can offer.

"How've your studies been?" he's ignoring Dean as much as possible.

You say nothing as his eyes run over your form, however, you could never trust Dean to do the same as he throws his arm around you neck and snarls a dangerous threat that you choose not to hear as you begin to shake.

Dean's pulling you away now, his arm still around your neck and his eyes glowering at the old man. His hand is going inside his jacket and you're sure that he's packing some heat.

"Get out of here, leave us alone," Dean barks.

The light in Wilkinson's eye dims a little and you see them following Dean's hand.

"Okay," the man holds up his hands in an attempt to placate your brother as he takes a few steps back. "Okay. It was good seeing you again, Sammy."

You're still not saying anything and the feel of your brother's body starts to calm you.

-

When you get home, you immediately run to the bathroom and shower. The hot water washing away the chills you get every time you ever saw Wilkinson.

Dean questions you about it later, demands to know what the guy did.

"It's been said and done and taken care of," you finally say. "Don't dredge it up again, please?"

Dean growls something under his breath as he turns away from you and leaves the kitchen, moving the five feet to the ratty recliner in the living room and sitting down.

He keeps mumbling until Dad comes into the room and tells him to shut up.

-z-


	7. tame angel

**Title** : Sixty Words

**Disclaimer** : Me no own, You no sue.

**Warning** : Wincest if you squint while hanging upside down from your chair.

**Note** : Before S2's "No Exit"

-z-

**Chapter Seven **: tame, angel

-z-

The bar had been quiet for a few days. Too quiet. Which meant that something bad had happened or was fixin' to.

Then Ellen Harvelle heard the rumble of an old engine, she peered out of a dusty and dirty window and that's when she saw them, two beautiful boys clambering out of an old Chevy.

"Jo," she tossed a shotgun to her daughter and motioned for her to hide.

They were John's boys. Who'd've thought that he would fail to mention their wide network of Hunters?

-

"I like Dean," Jo tells Ellen.

Ash glances up from his laptop. "Like _like_?" he asked, eyes darting between the Harvelle women.

"Yeah," Jo muttered, dipping her head low as she wiped the counter.

Ellen sighed, she knew. _Like mother, like daughter, I guess_, she thought to herself. "Jo, thing about the Winchesters is-"

"I won't do anything," Jo said quickly, raising her eyes and looking at her mother.

Ellen wants to tell her daughter that by being attracted to one of _them_ she had already done herself plenty of heartache. "Let me finish. The thing about the Winchesters is that there is none they care for more than one of their own."

At Jo's confused look, Ash took over.

"They're twisted," Ash stood and went to the bar; looking down at the girl he saw as his own sister. "They love the Hunt, L-O-V-E. They're not in it for the heroism or to save lives, they just love the Hunting and the killing and living on the edge of life and on the outside of society's rules. And if it ever came down to choosing either a victim or one of their own, they would choose their own every time."

"So what you're saying is that they're evil?"

"Not evil," Ellen stepped back into the conversation, "They're unpredictable, untamable. Dangerous in ways that most monsters aren't. If Dean were to lose Sam, or vice versa, he would travel to the deepest and darkest parts of hell to take his revenge. I'm sure that man would rip the Pearly Gates right off their hinges to demand that God give him his brother."

"What does any of this have to do with me?"

"Dean's heart is filled with three things," Ash raised three fingers, "the Hunt, the Impala, and above those, his baby brother. There's room for nothin' else."

Jo looked at her mother for confirmation. Ellen's heart sank as she realized that Jo believed none of this. She just saw Dean as he was, a sexy man with a hot car and the scent of freedom and gunpowder and danger.

Ellen wants to warn her daughter, teach Jo the lesson she had to learn the hard way: _the Winchesters are too wild to be handled by anyone except another Winchester._ But she can't even do that if Jo won't bother listening to her.

Ellen opens her mouth to say something else but then the bell above the door jingles, announcing the first customers of the day. She watches as they enter, the Winchester brothers sauntering toward the bar, their eyes sweeping the room and taking notes; their intoxicating beauty outweighed only by the predatory glint in their eyes.

Jo greets them as she goes to prepare their respective drinks.

"You okay Ellen?' Sam asks. His green eyes squint in concern.

"Fine, Sam," Ellen puts a hand to her face, covering her mouth as she rushes to the bathroom before emptying her stomach of her breakfast.

Ash is by her side in a flash.

Ellen wants to cry, to weep for the Winchester boys and their sway over her only daughter. For the danger Ellen knows that they wouldn't protect Jo from if it meant sacrificing each other.

The Winchesters have always been a selfish bunch.

-z-


	8. gannet

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue.

**Warning**: implied Wincest, character deaths

**Note**: I do apologize most sincerely for the complete lack of updates. Review please!

-z-

**Chapter** **Eight** : gannet

-z-

You dance and laugh under the bright half moon, forgetting all worries and cares and just basking in his presence.

_"About that time?" you ask Dean, slamming a magazine into your .45 Colt._

You're both drinking and jumping around like young men are supposed to on a Friday night.

_"Yeah, Sammy," Dean says, slinging his duffel onto his shoulder. The faked devil-may-care smirk he was famous for never left his face._

You must've been to a hundred different bars that night, getting a million phone numbers on various napkins and bits of paper. All of which were to be arranged on the dresser of your motel room when you left town.

_"Read it to me one more time," Dean's voice was soft as he stopped at a light. You knew that Dean had already memorized the message, but you obliged him nonetheless._

Neither one of you had seen the note on the door. You had been too preoccupied with trying to get the key at least some where near the hole while Dean was standing just a little too close, his breath a little too hot on your neck as he cooed encouragement in your ear in a way that was _not_ supposed to be arousing.

_"Red sky at night," you started, "Winchester's delight. Red sky at morning, Winchester's warning. Come one, come all, to see Their fall."_

You could blame the alcohol, but that would only be a waste of time.

And it had been such a long, long time.

_"I don't know what it means, Sam."_

_"So why are we still going?" you asked, turning the note over so you could look at the hand drawn map._

_Dean shrugs the way he usually does when he doesn't have an answer._

-

Two brothers sit on a beach. They are surrounded by corpses that have begun to sizzle in the broiling afternoon sun.

Two brothers sit on a beach. They are dying. The elder, Dean, describing to the younger, Sam, just how beautiful the sky is, how blue the water is, and how funny it all is because it took him this long to notice.

Two brothers sit on a beach. Sam's eyes were ruined in the fight and Dean thanks the God he doesn't believe in anymore that Sam can't see the stub where Dean's left arm used to be.

Two brothers sit on a beach. They had been fighting their entire lives. It's okay though, because now, now they finally get to rest.

-z-


	9. decorum

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest, Language

**Note**:Set during season one or two.

-**z**-

**Chapter** **Nine**: Decorum

-**z**-

It was your ritual: clean the weapons…

"_Pass the brush, Sammy?"_

"_Yeah, man."_

…load the weapons…

"_Sam!"_

"_What?" he's still inside the room._

"_Where the hell is my – "_

"_Right here!"_

"_Oh."_

…fuck in the shower…

"_Sammy, shit, please!"_

…check out of the motel…

"_Have a wonderful day, sir."_

_Dean smiles lecherously as he throws an arm around Sam and wiggles his eyebrows._

…then, then you were off. Sam sitting beside you and Metallica blaring.

-z-


	10. fluid

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest, Dean/Castiel/Sam

**Note**:Set during season four/five.

-**z**-

**Chapter** **Ten **: Fluid

-**z**-

It was probably a mistake to come over after all.

Dean and Sam collapse into a fit of hysterical giggling, tangling themselves in their own limbs and blankets. All this does is intensify said giggling.

You stand; ready to take your leave when Dean's voice – slurred and slowed and silkily seductive – calls out your name, effectively halting your exit.

"Do you need anything else from me, Dean?"

"Bad choice of words," Dean smirks. He rises to his feet; and you can't help but stare at the long and lithe form sauntering towards you.

"Oh?" you keep your facial features blank, letting the tone of your voice be any indication of the challenge.

Dean is still smirking when he grabs your tie and gently guides you back towards the bed, back towards Sam.

Yeah, it was probably a mistake to come over after all.

**-z-**


	11. ides

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Patricide, slight gore

**Note**: AU; pre-series.

-**z**-

**Chapter** **Eleven **: Ides

-**z**-

You had never wanted things to end like they were ending right now. But, on the other hand, he really did bring it upon himself.

"_I'm sorry," he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I wish there was a way out of this, I do. But – I've got nothing."_

You hear your high school teacher's voice in your head as he talks about Brutus' betrayal, and you absently wonder: if your father still had his tongue, would he describe his own situation in the same way?

Would Dad talk about how right he was? How selfish you were being?

Would he force you to listen once again about how your precious little Sammy was going to bring down the sun and moon and stars?

"_Please, Dean," he rubs a hand through his hair – a nervous gesture you recognize. "I know this is hard for you."_

You had never wanted things to end like they were ending right now: Daddy roped to a chair with you elbow deep in his blood and just salivating for more.

**-z-**


	12. indeterminate casaba

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest; mentions of underage naughty stuff

**Note**: Preseries.

-**z**-

**Chapter** **Twelve **: Casaba/Indeterminate

-**z**-

He's been _watching_ you since you can remember and even before then. There were times when this look would come into his eyes and it wasn't until you were sixteen and he first kissed you that you recognized it as Lust.

You moan into the kiss and tilt your head to the side; fingers threading through Dean's too-short hair and a part of you wonders why he tastes like fruit.

You make a mental note to ask him about it later, but then you're against the wall and all logical thought has left your upstairs brain.

**-z-**


	13. travail

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: None

**Note**: Set during season one.

-**z**-

**Chapter** **Thirteen**: Travail

-**z**-

_Pain – white hot and sudden_.

"Dean," Sam's voice is a strangled intake of breath as he clenches his eyes shut and collapses backwards into your arms.

This is the part you hate.

"It's okay, Sammy," you whisper as you hold him close. "I've got you, Sam. I've got you."

_Screaming – angry desperation that's only a whisper-on-a-scream hint of what's going on inside his head._

You close your eyes, trying to wait it out as calmly as possible.

This is the part you hate.

You hate the screams, the screams that you can't stop. This is Sam's burden and the only thing you can do now is stand guard for those few minutes Sam's on the floor, so completely and utterly defenseless.

_Pain and screaming – no relief in sight until all has been told._

**-z-**


	14. alabaster

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest

**Note**: S1

-z-

**Chapter Thirteen**: Alabaster

-z-

When you spend pretty much all of your life Hunting creatures of the night, it's no wonder that you're a bit paler than most. But, when you see Sam after two years on his own, you notice right away how his skin's tanned.

Running your fingers over its smoothness, you imagine that you can feel the heat from the sun and you know that _this _is as close to that bright ball in the sky as you'll ever get.

So you pull Sam a little closer, kiss him a little deeper, wanting only for all of that raw heat to fill you from the inside out.

Sam is more than willing to comply.

-z-


	15. infer

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest; language

**Note**: Preseries.

-z-

**Chapter** **Fourteen**: Infer

-z-

**_Hush-a-bye, baby  
_****_On the tree top_**

You look up from your drink to greet the guy Rebecca has just brought to your table. You almost choke on your beer when you see who it is.

"Dean?" you sputter.

"You two know each other?" Rebecca is all smiles as she runs her hands over Dean's biceps.

"You can say that," Dean smirks down at you.

You want to hit him just then, hit him and curse him and tell him to get the fuck on.

You don't know what stops you.

"I'm sorry, hun," Dean says to Rebecca as he disentangles himself from her grasp. "But, I need to talk to Sam for a minute."

You notice it then, something in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders. Might've just been the tone of his voice or the fact that he was even here at all, that lets you know something has gone terribly wrong.

**_When the wind blows, the cradle will rock  
_****_When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall_**

Dean heads out to the Impala, making small talk all the way until you finally demand what the hell was going on. Dean leaned against the car, looking you up and down before whispering,

"Something's happened, Sammy, and I need you to not freak out."

Before you could say anything, Dean pulled down the collar of his shirt and jacket.

"Shit, Dean," your hand flies to your mouth as your brain processes the teeth marks on your brother's neck.

"Vampires," he covers the wound again and scoffs. "Who knew?"

"They turned you," it was more of a statement than a question.

Dean only nods.

And then realization slaps you full in the face.

"No!" you shout at him, stepping away and throwing your hands up. "I'm not going to do it."

"And why not?" Dean's voice is calm and you hate him for it.

"You're my brother!" you're back in his face, angry and indignant that he would ask this of you.

"You've already turned your back on me," Dean's voice steadily grew louder. "You've already killed my soul why not finish the fuckin' job?"

"Not. Going. To fuckin' happen," you snarl as you grab him by the back of the neck and pull him into a searing kiss.

**_And down will come baby, cradle and all._**

-z-


	16. injured

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: mild torture

**Note**: "Just For" by Nickelback

-z-

**Chapter** **Fifteen**: Injured

-z-

**_I want to take his eyes out  
_****_Just for looking at you  
_****_Yes, I do_**

The knife slices Sam's flesh and the scent of blood filling the air as the boiling anger in your chest turns to icy rage. And Gordon Walker will suffer, oh, so terribly.

**_And I want to take his hands off  
_****_Just for touching you  
_****_Yes, I do_**

The knife slices Gordon's flesh, the scent of blood filling the air as the icy rage in your chest turns to a thrilling sort of tranquility. And little Sammy puts a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

**_And I want to rip his heart out  
_****_Just for hurting you  
_****_And I want to break his mind down  
_****_Yes, I do, yes, I do, yes, I do_**

-z-


	17. peon

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest; hints of Sam/Gabriel

**Note**:

-z-

**Chapter** **Sixteen**: Peon

-z-

It was the soft whisper of wings that woke you from your light sleep. Slowly looking around, you saw Gabriel standing in the middle of the room.

He made a soft cooing noise at you as he took in you and your brother's positions on the bed.

You look down at Dean's head in your lap, a half-eaten burger in one hand and the TV remote in the other. You had propped yourself up again the headboard, researching your current job.

You laugh when Gabriel comes in close, _really _close. He doesn't know the amount of danger he's putting himself in.

"What's so funny?" Gabriel asks.

You spare a quick glance at your sleeping brother, still smirking as you say, "You're getting a little too close."

"Oh?" Gabriel leans so that his nose brushes against your throat, inhaling your scent. "What? Don't want Dean to find-"

Gabriel was interrupted by the tip of a blade pressing against his manhood.

"Fuck off," Dean snarls at the angel; he's never had any patience for your many would-be suitors.

Gabriel slowly backs away, hands in the air.

You're still chuckling when the angel blows you a kiss and a wink before disappearing.

-z-


	18. perplex graduate

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest; mentions of underage naughty stuff

**Note**: Preseries. "Wastebasket Brother" by Shel Silverstein

-z-

**Chapter** **Seventeen**: Perplex/Graduate

-z-

**_Someone put their baby brother  
__Under this basket –_**

You watch him. Always, you watch him.

You watch as he reluctantly falls in step behind Dad to begin training; as he glances back to you before stepping into a new classroom; as he closes his eyes and curls up even _closer._

**_The question is exactly why,  
__But I'm not going to ask it._**

You watch him. Always, you watch him.

You park the Impala on the side of an empty back road. Then, you and Sam are fucking in the backseat; Sammy's high school diploma sitting innocently on the dashboard.

**_But someone, I ain't sayin' who,  
__Has got a guilty face,_**

You're watching him carefully; you know that something is about to happen and you're not quite sure what it is, but it's going to be big. The very next day, Sam leaves for college.

**_Ashamed for lettin' such a lovely brother  
__Go to waste._**

-z-


	19. conamore

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest; slash; AU

**Pairing**: Sam/Dean, Sam/Mark

**Note**: Spoilers for season 6

-z-

**Chapter** **Eighteen**: conamore

-z-

Gentle fingers here and there and it's something that you know you could never get enough of and probably won't since Sam's always been such a fuckin' tease.

You love all the time you get with him – and you know that it makes Christian jealous. Even though he has Arlene to go home to, he still thinks you're his.

Then the call comes in. And you hear the words that you never wanted to hear from Sam's mouth.

"It's time to get my brother," he says and you see the ghost of a smile on his lips and something close to an emotion that he's never shown with you shines in his eyes.

You don't say anything. You're too afraid that you'll choke on the jealousy that sits thick in your throat.

-x-

It's not until you watch Sam move to stand between Christian and Dean that you realize exactly what was going on between the brothers.

You chuckle bitterly to yourself as you remember how it was Dean's name that passed through Sam's lips when he came – not yours.

-x-

"I never stood a chance, did I?" you finally ask Sam.

Sam doesn't say anything – just flickers a glance over to where Dean and Samuel are talking in the corner.

"Yeah," you shake your head and glare at Dean, "I didn't think so."

Sam still isn't saying anything, doesn't even bother trying to look guilty.

"And when he leaves you again?" you growl, because, dammit, you're angry and hurt and definitely _not_ in love with the youngest Winchester.

"He's not leaving again," Sam snaps.

"Of course he is," you lean in closer, lowering your voice to a whisper. "He's going to go back to his whore and normalcy. He's going to leave you alone, Sam."

"No, I'm not," suddenly Dean's lips are at your ear and you can't help jumping up and away, hand automatically going to the knife at your hip.

The knife that's no longer there.

"Looking for this?" Dean asks as he casually twirls the blade in his hand.

You glance around the room and it's just you and the brothers and you can't help but wonder at the fear that trickles chillingly down your spine at the thought.

"Sammy told me what you've been doing for him," Dean says as he stalks towards you. "Keeping him warm at night and all. But now that I'm back, I'm letting you know just this once-"

The blade in Dean's hand is suddenly at your throat.

"-If I catch you so much as _looking_ at my brother," the metal digs in a little deeper, "I'm going to rip your throat out very, very slowly. Clear?"

You give only the barest of nods.

"Great," Dean smiles and takes a step back. "Then we can all be friends."

With that, he drops the knife and he and Sam leave the room – taking all the air with them as your knees buckle and you fall to the floor.

-z-


	20. gourmet assault

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: Wincest; spoilers for season 6

-z-

**Chapter** **Nineteen**: gourmet/assault

-z-

It was funny the things that you did to convince yourself that Sam was real and alive and here in front of you.

And, as you and your brother enter the upscale restaurant you notice that you're under scrutiny as soon as you cross the threshold. But then Sam opens his mouth and suddenly he has the air of high-society around him and you know that he expects you to play your part, which you do without fail.

You laugh when you finally sit at the table.

"What is it?" Sam asks.

You smile; and it's the genuine sort of smile that seems so rare these days. You're just smiling and staring at Sammy and you can't seem to find your voice.

"I know," Sam says as he reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, "I missed you, too, Dean."

And you can't even stop yourself as you grab Sammy's hand and bring it to your lips – it's stupid and cliché but dammit, you've _missed_ him so much.

"I wanted to come back," Sam says, choking on his words. "God, Dean, you have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you."

"It's okay, Sammy," you finally say around Sam's knuckles. "It's okay. I know why you did it, I understand."

The waiter is suddenly back with your wine and you refuse to stop touching Sam, despite the dirty looks.

You want to tell Sammy that even though you understand, it doesn't make you any less angry. But, looking into his eyes now, you can see that he already knows.

So you just quietly hold onto Sammy's hand and he holds onto yours.

And you're both just sitting there holding onto each other, never looking away, never even blinking.

-x-

That night, you and Sam stay in the same room.

Samuel points out that the room has only one bed – neither you nor Sam comment, just turn away and disappear into the room.

Sam takes you by the hand and leads you into the bathroom, turning on the shower and stripping your clothes away piece by piece. Slowly, as Sam melts into you – every nerve coming to life under his fingertips – he relearns your body.

You arch into every lick and kiss, whispering his name as you throw your hand back against the wall – Sammy's tongue unraveling you in a way you have been desperate for since you watched him disappear down the rabbit hole.

-x-

"You know," you start as the two of you lay spent and sated on the bed, "in the beginning, I called your name out during sex."

Sam turns to you slowly.

"Lisa just chalked it up to grief," you continue. "If only she knew."

"On some level," Sam says slowly, pulling your hand into his and intertwining your fingers together, "I think she knows that you've always be mine. There was something in her eyes when she saw me. It was resignation, Dean. She knows that you'll come back to me."

"Don't I always, Sammy?" you say with a bitter chuckle. You sit up on your elbows and press a chaste kiss to the side of Sam's mouth. "Don't I always?"

-x-

Samuel finds the two of you the next morning – you on your back with Sam nestled against your side, his head on your stomach. You continue to "sleep" as he watches.

Samuel finally just mutters a soft curse and slowly closes the door.

"Dean?" you hear a slight tremble in Sam's voice.

"It's okay, Sammy," you say. "I doubt he suspects. We're clothed and sleeping on top of the covers."

You feel Sam nod as you quietly begin to thread your fingers through his too-long hair, humming Metallica, and closing your eyes against the world you aren't quite ready to deal with yet.

-z-


	21. infinite

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: none

**Note**: Tag to 2x01

-z-

**Chapter** **Twenty**: infinite

-z-

You sit beside your brother, telling him how you're trying to find a way to get him back, how you won't be letting him go.

You know that even though Dean's body is dying, his spirit is somewhere in the room with you. And wasn't that just like him?

Dean was always there, Dean was forever, no "ifs", "ands", or "buts" about it. Dean was just _Dean_. And no person, thing, or otherwise could hope to change that. It was laughable for them to even try.

-z-


	22. savage idiocy

**Title**: Sixty Words

**Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue

**Warning**: torture, language

**Note**: AU after 2x03

-z-

**Chapter** **Twenty-One**: Savage/Idiocy

-z-

You let loose an agonized groan as your own blade cuts deep into your skin.

"How you holding up, Gordie?" taunts the silky voice that belong to hazel eyes.

You spit blood in Dean's face.

"We're gonna have to fix that attitude of yours," Dean sighs, shaking his head.

Then he does something - you're not sure what, but it hurts like a bitch and the next thing you know you're screaming echoes loudly in your ears.

You knew that you should've listened.

_Don't ever go after one_, they said. _If you _have_ to, kill Sam first – he'll be the easiest to take down. But don't let Dean see you. If he sees you hurt Sam, you're dead. Even if you kill him, he'll just come back and he'll kill you nice and slow._

Yeah, you should've listened. You were dead the moment your knife touched lil' Sammy's skin.

A sudden white hot slice of fire in your lower back and you know that Dean is starting to get bored.

"Just end it!" you finally shout, hating that you can't keep the begging out of your voice.

Then Dean is there – in your face with all of his rage and anger and _holy fucking shit _you've never been so scared in all your life.

"No," he snarls. "You're going to live."

It's not until Dean is gone and you try to stand that you realize exactly what has happened, exactly what that burning fire in your back really means.

Yeah, Dean may have let you live, but he took away your _legs_.

You can't walk.

You can't _Hunt_.

Now, you just sit at the Roadhouse. And every time you look at another Hunter, you have to choke down their pity and their empty promises of vengeance. For no Hunter can go against the Winchesters.

You're the living proof of that.

But no one has the guts to say it to your face.

And it makes you hate them all even more.

-x-

The young Hunter shouts and screams and begs for mercy.

And the voice of Gordon Walker reverberates though his skull: _Never, ever go after only one. Because, even if you did win, there's still the other one that you have to deal with and he'll be a million times worse._

He should've listened.

But, right now it's all he can do to not choke on his own blood as Dean's knife carves deeper and deeper.

-z-


End file.
